


Please

by Nachtblume



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Dead Sherlock, Feels, John Watson Needs A Hug, Not Really Character Death, Post-The Reichenbach Fall
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-13
Updated: 2015-08-13
Packaged: 2018-04-14 12:44:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4565145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nachtblume/pseuds/Nachtblume
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post-Reichenbach Fall, John sits alone and he hopes......<br/>(We all know Sherlock won't die. John doesn't, and I can't imagine how he feels, watching Sherlock, his best friend, jump.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Please

The vague sound of violin goes in through one ear and comes out through the other. It doesn’t process in his brain - no, the music is all jumbled, meaningless.

The shadow of a man, thin and long-limbed, rises from the dust by the curtains. John watches as the shadow slowly sways to imaginary music, talented fingers dancing across strings.

“The game is on, John.”

He can still hear his baritone, deep and velvety as he pronounced ‘John’. Such an ordinary name, yet as his lips utter the syllable, it’s as if, as if John was unique. Important.

Soon, a gust of wind disintegrates the shadow, bursting the vague outline of a man into nothing. John sees his own hand stretching, trying to touch the outline, to keep something, anything.

It’s all gone. His hand is empty.

Abruptly, he stands up. He should…… Yes, he should. Might see him again. Sherlock’s not…… Not……

He can’t be.

This is just some dirty trick.

Running out onto the street, he hails a cab and the address spills out of his lips, his mind having rehearsed it again and again. He nearly rolls out of the cab in his hurry, his legs heavy as lead, his heart pumping until it’s thundering in his ears.

The black, classy stone meets him. The area is silent, and the gold engravements blaze in the orange and purple hues of twilight. The fire smokes his eyes and he feels salt water flowing down.

Please. Sherlock.

I beg you.

**Author's Note:**

> This piece is also posted on http://vergissmeinnichtuniverse.tumblr.com/post/126591685491/johnlock-ficlet-1  
> Visit my tumblr if you wanna see more of what I'm doing! Oh, and leave kudos if you've enjoyed my work please ;)


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